There's a light and a dark side to Ted's Montana Grill and, in deference to the chain's booming popularity, I'll start with the compliments. For starters, Ted's commitment to freshness is its strongest quality. For a high-volume chain restaurant, their ethics are shocking -- no freezer, no microwave, steaks carved up right in the kitchen. Ted's cuts no corners, yet somehow has your food ready in an instant. I can only assume the kitchen is staffed by tireless robots.

The commitment to freshness is a good thing. The commitment to bison is a little odd. I imagine that co-founder Ted Turner has a theatrical penchant for the olden days of the Wild West, when thunderous herds of bison raised dust clouds the size of Texas. At the Montana Grill, this husky beast is boldly presented as a mainstream meat. Bison burgers, bison steaks, bison chili, pot roast and meatloaf ... patrons were eating it up with gusto, demonstrating an intrepid palate Connecticut residents are rumored to lack.

Of course, it's only daring to down that first mouthful. After that, you'll be hooked. Bison is not gamy or gristly -- it's like a lean, pleasant riff on beef that actually has fewer calories and less cholesterol. The bison Kansas City Strip was very nice, lightly seared and brushed moderately with lemon butter. The bison pot roast was even better, with the high quality of the meat bringing this budget recipe to a surprising level of elegance.

The bison burgers took some getting used to, since a burger isn't something I look to for a leaner flavor. Still, for those of us who haven't forgotten about mad cow disease, it may be worth it to make the switch. Bison are produced in smaller facilities and don't have their diets supplemented with brainy bits of their brothers and sisters, which makes them well protected from infection.

But on to more appetizing subjects, such as the items that Ted's puts on top of its burgers. There are more than a dozen combinations, with various sprinklings of blue cheese, cheddar, grilled onions, hot peppers and so much more. You're sure to find a burger that suits your tastes and each is available as beef or bison. If you're taking a night off from red meat, there's an equally long list of chicken sandwiches served on toasted sourdough rolls.

Overall, the food was decent and reasonably priced, though a few items weren't worth eating. The ``beer can'' chicken, roasted to supposed ``perfection,'' was dry and too mild in flavor; the beef prime rib was overcooked and tough. I also had little interest in the side dishes, mostly mundane preparations like butter-slicked asparagus, garlic mashed potatoes and dinner rolls the size of golf balls.

Nevertheless, fresh food, bushels of bison and a wide selection of sandwiches are enough to satisfy most diners. Ted's seems to be drawing crowds with its homey recipes and Arts and Crafts decor, featuring cavernous spaces with pressed tin ceilings and a forest of mahogany paneling.

Now the downside: The crowds themselves were a throwback to the frontier that the restaurant works to evoke, making the Ted's experience somewhat trying. There are an uncanny number of parties of six or more, usually made up of middle-aged men in khaki shorts and stained polo shirts who shout at each other over sloshing pints of beer. One table of 30-somethings had a lengthy conversation about their high-school-aged waitress' rump steak; another table burst into a nasty round of hooting when a server dropped a glass. I half expected a thong-clad stripper to be served with dessert.

The staff seemed to handle it all with a smile and our waitresses were always pleasant and well-intentioned. However, items like drinks and silverware were frequently late in arriving to the table and sometimes never arrived at all. And I nearly growled when I asked to have something wrapped up and was handed an aluminum container to pack myself. I have no idea who decided to institute this growing practice, but when I find him, I plan to grind him up with cornmeal and feed him to a pack of hungry Holsteins. Yes, I actually hate it that much and encourage all like-minded diners to make as much of a mess as possible when forced to engage in this barbarism.

Friends have said I overreacted about the scene and the service, but I'm a fickle diner and the best bison in the world can't nourish an unsavory experience. There may be a time when I'll strap on a pair of grass-stained Nikes and return for a slice of rump steak, but for now, Ted's is all yours.